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COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 



By 

R. A. S. WADE 

Author of 
The Parchment" and other Poems 




BROADWAY PUBLISHING CO. 

NEW YORK AND BALTIMORE 

835 Broadway 1722 N. Calvert 






Copyright, 1910. 

BY 

R. A. S. WADE. 



€;CI.A259,S11 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

This Book is dedicated 5 

La Canada 6 

Yearning 8 

The Rose 9 

La Monte lo 

Los Angeles 1 1 

The Magic Mint 12 

Harro 14 

Nobody Knows 15 

The Long- Ago Land 17 

The Grey Boys 18 

Blackwater Chapel 19 

Johnson Wheeler 21 

Rosalind 23 

The Substitute 23 

Debris 25 

The Tramps 25 

Annie 26 

The Shambler 27 

Gwendolyn 29 

A Wish 30 

Maggie 31 

The Circle Letter 35 

The Queen 38 

Darkness and Light 42 

Dying 44 

Powder and Ball 48 

The Sunday Worker 51 

Santa Ana Commandery, K. T 52 

The Dreamer 53 

The Columns 54 

The Old Dinner Horn 56 

John of Tyrone 59 

The Test 61 

Gone 63 

A Hero 63 

Greeting 65 

Fifty Years 65 

Farewell ■. 67 

A Prayer 68 

Oh! Would! .'. 68 

A Vision 68 

The Hen 69 



California Songs 



THIS BOOKLET IS DEDICATED 

To the Friends who dream 

By the mountain stream 
Where the laurel trees are growing; 

To the Friends who meet 

In the village street 
Where the prairie wind is blowing. 

To the Friends who gaze 

Where the heavens blaze 
And the lightning's gleam is flashing; 

To the Friends who stroll 

Where the breakers roll 
And the ocean waves are dashina:. 

To the Friends who toil 

In the ceaseless moil 
In the mart of the busy city ; 

To the Friends who pray 

For the souls that stray 
Where there's neither love nor pity. 

To the Friends who work 

In the sacred Kirk 
With an ardor unabating; 

To the Friends who lie 

Out beneath the sky 
Where the silent dead are waiting. 
5 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

To the man whose life 
Is an endless strife, 
Where the air is oft mephitic, 
In a fruitless fight 
With the men who write, 
To our dauntless friend, the critic, 

— R. A. S. Wade. 
2229 Morcum Ave., Lx)s Angeles, Cal., Aug. 24, 1909. 



LA CANADA. 



Have you been to the vale 
Sweeping up from Glendale 
When the wind blew a gale 
In wild La Cafiada ? 

Have you wandered at will 
When the night wind was still 
And your heart was athrill 
In the vale, La Caiiada ? 

Have you sat half asleep 
Where the shadows were deep 
When the summer nights sweep 
O'er dark La Canada ? 

Oh ! the fairest that grows 
Is the soft-tinted rose, 
When the summer wind blows 
In bright La Canada. 

There the flowers never die ; 
There the mountains are high. 
And their peaks touch the sky 
Around La Canada. 

6 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

There the piteous wail 
Of the unmated quail 
Strikes the heart like a flail 
In fair La Caiiada. 

There the mocking bird trills 
All the music that thrills 
The glad heart in the hills 
'Round dear La Cafiada. 

And the turtle doves greet 
Their fair mates when they meet 
With their cooings so sweet 
In sweet La Caiiada. 

And the lights of Mount Lowe 
In the summer nights glow 
Where the wildflowers blow 
By fair La Caiiada. 

There the splendor enthralls, 
And the light grandly falls 
On the Gould castle walls, 
By fair La Caiiada. 

Oh ! the mist-shrouded hills 
And the grandeur that fills 
Every heart till it thrills 
In fair La Caiiada. 

Not a sad bell may toll ; 
Not a shadow may roll 
O'er the undisturbed soul, 
In calm La Caiiada. 

There no tear dims the eye 

And no heart heaves a sigh 

Where the summer birds fly 

In fair La Canada. 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

And no mortal may weep 
Where the silent years sleep, 
As the centuries sweep 
O'er fair La Canada. 

There the soul is at rest, 
And the spirit is blest 
In the vale we love best, 
In dear La Canada. 

And the day and night seem 
To glide by like a dream 
Where the softest moonbeam 
Falls on La Canada. 

There is nought that will cloy, 
There's no trace of alloy 
In that valley of joy. 

The sweet La Caiiada. 

'Tis an unhappy day 

When the sad heart must say, 

As it wanders away : 

"Farewell ! La Cafiada !" 



YEARNING. 



I looked through my window away at the scene 
Where mountains were clothed in their vestments of 
green, 

While tints that were rarest 

And hues that were fairest 
Lent charm to the hills and the valleys between ; 

I gazed at the vision. 

The beauty Elysian, 
And wished I might roam in that region serene. 

8 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

I hopefully toiled o'er the hill and the dale ; 
I dared the enchanting Sierras to scale; 

But foot-sore and weary 

And heart-sore and dreary 
I sought for the beauty but nought would avail; 

The charm so alluring 

Had proved unenduring; 
The beauty had fled and I sought but to fail. 

But farther away in the distance I see 

Where mountains and valleys and hills seem to be 

In splendor enshrouded 

In regions unclouded ; 
Yet sometimes they seem to be closer to me, 

And show to my vision 

Those regions Elysian 
And splendid enchantments that never will flee. 

And oft as I gaze at the beautiful scene 
Beyond the dim valley that stretches between 

My heart yearns to wander 

In peace over yonder 
Among the fair hills in the meadows of green, 

Where tints ever blending 

Lend beauty unending, 
That thrills the rapt heart in that region serene. 



THE ROSE. 



O, how oft do I go 

In the morning's first glow, 
And more oft when the weary day closes. 

To my favorite nook 

By the murmuring brook. 
Where so sweet is the scent of the roses. 

9 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

In the shade of the trees 

The industrious bees 
To the nectar-filled flowers are clinging; 

And the grasshopper's song 

All the summer day long 
From the neighboring meadow comes ringing. 

When the evening is still 

The low-whispering rill 
Its sweet message to mortals is sending, 

As it tells of the peace 

We shall know without cease 
In the gardens of bliss never-ending. 

And there comes the soft beat 

Of invisible feet 
As the angels are gently descending; 

While more sweet grows the rose, 

And its richer tint shows 
That the heavenly guests are attending. 

And my heart-throbs most hush 

As I breathe the sweet gush 
Flung abroad by a heavenly pinion ; 

And the scent of the rose 

Tells to men that it grows 
On the margin of heaven's dominion. 



LA MONTE. 

La Monte, thy soft breezes 

Bring perfume that pleases 
Where bees gather nectar 
From bloom as they fly ; 

Thy church bells are ringing; 

Thy Christians are flinging 
Their songs through the grovelets. 
The gardens and sky. 

lO 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

Thy hearts, pure and tender, 

True reverence render 
To Him who directs them 
In all of their ways ; 

And, e'er interceding 

And earnestly pleading, 
Seek grace to assist them 
In perfecting praise. 

And God ever guides them. 
Whatever betides them, 

And hears every prayer, 

Every song that is sung; 
And safe in His keeping. 
Through travail and weeping, 

They gather their dear ones 

While yet they are young. 

O, Saviour, be near them ; 

And evermore hear them ; 
And guide them and keep them 
In all of their ways ! 

May their interceding 

Bring others to leading 
Their children to Thee 
In the morn of their days ! 



LOS ANGELES. 



As fair as the morning 
She stands here adorning 
This heaven-kissed shore, 
Summer land of perfume ; 
Her bosom is swelling, 
Her lips ever telling 
Her lovers to haste to 
Her beauty and bloom. 

II 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

Though proud and commanding 

She sweetly is standing 
Her hands ever white 
And her heart ever pure ; 

Her power extending. 

Her youth never ending, 
Her beauty immortal 
As years shall endure. 



THE MAGIC MINT. 



A poet constructed a magical mint 

That turned out its coin without limit or stint 

From ore of his mining, 

All sparkling and shining, 
Enchanting the eye with its magical glint. 

Its coinage was neither of silver nor gold, 

Though anxiously sought by the young and the old; 

It ran without ceasing, 

Its coinage increasing, 
Yet never the sum of its output was told. 

The coin was accepted all over the earth ; 
Wherever the children of men knew its worth, 

Where hearts had grown weary 

And life become dreary, 
It went and took gladness and music and mirth. 

To rich and to poor, to the grave and the gay 
This magical money was given away; 

The poor and the needy. 

The sordid and greedy. 
Drew cash on their checks all the hours of the day. 

It came to the home when the yuletifle was near. 
And ingleside glow filled the bosom with cheer, 

12 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

And young hearts were beating, 
And parents repeating 
The rhymes, runes and rondeaus the young Hke to hear. 

This coin was not stored up in cities and banks, 
And loaned to the poor without pity or thanks ; 

It spread through the nations 

In lavish donations, 
Exalting, enlightening men of all ranks. 

Nor carried in trains over mountain and lea, 

Nor borne in great ships through the depths of the sea 

To add to men's pleasures, 

Or build up their treasures, 
Where commerce recorded its binding decree. 

But, treasured and held in the heart of a child 

That played in the woods where the flowers grew wild, 

Or strayed fondly dreaming, 

This coin threw its gleaming 
In visions that ravished and charmed and beguiled. 

It burgeoned and grew in the hearts of the young. 
And over their lives its enchantments were flung 

By forest and fountain. 

And meadow and mountain. 
In tales that were told and the songs that were sung. 

The coiner's soft tread in the gloaming was heard, 
When sweetly the heart of a maiden was stirred, 

As memories came stealing. 

Her child-songs revealing 
In sigh of a zephyr or song of a bird. 

Or, kept by a mother when burdened with care, 
Or sunk in the depths of the deepest despair. 

With heart that was bleeding, 

And lips that were pleading. 
Its sheen threw a buoyance and radiance there. 

13 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 
HARRO. 

When the boat had returned from the wreck 
And had brought all the men from the deck, 

Harro, bold, brave and true, 

As the wind wildly blew, 
Asked his men if they saved all the crew. 

They replied that so fierce was the blast 
A poor man, lashed high up on the mast, 

Had been left there to die ; 

Though his prayer rent the sky 
They had turned a deaf ear to his cry. 

"I will bring him away. Who will go?" 
Harro said, while the sleet and the snow, 

As it swept through the air, 

Filled his beard and his hair ; 
And the brave men were filled with despair. 

'T will go ! I will save him alone !" 
Harro said ; and his confident tone 

Filled the sailors with cheer, 

As a dozen drew near ; 
And they sprang in the boat without fear. 

"To the wreck !" Harro said : "Pull away !" 
At that moment in wildest dismay, 

In the tempest's wild roar, 

As the hand held the oar, 
Harro's mother appeared on the shore. 

"For the love of me, Harro, don't go !" 
Cried the mother. "Dear Harro, you know 

Your dear father and Fred 

Both are lost ; perhaps dead ! 
O, come back, my dear Harro !" she plead. 

14 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

He replied : "But the man on the mast 
Is exposed to this pitiless blast ! 

Is there no one to sigh, 

No dear mother to cry 
And to wait for her son should he die?" 

She replied not a word ; and the boat 
Sped away where the ship was afloat ; 

But the sea was so high, 

And so wild was the sky. 
That in vain was the lone sailor's cry. 

When they thought that to try was to fail, 
To be driven to death in the gale ; 

When their last hope was fled, 

And the man all but dead. 
Then the Teuton spoke bravely and said : 

"When I hear that man's piteous cry, 
It remains but to do and to die !" 

And the sailors, aghast, 

Said : "Good bye" as he passed 
To his death or the man on the mast. 

But he brought the man down from the mast ; 
And the boat flew away through the blast ; 

To his mother he sped 
And triumphantly said : 
"O, dear mother ! Dear mother ! It's Fred !" 



NOBODY KNOWS. 



She comes to wash and away she goes; 
And where she goes to nobody knows; 
She has her griefs, her trials and woes, 
But what her afflictions are, nobody knows. 

i5 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

Her face is faded as a last year's rose ; 
Was it one time beautiful? Nobody knows; 
Her hand is small as she wrings the hose; 
In youth who pressed it? Nobody knows. 

When red her lips, as the blushint^ rose, 
Who stooped to kiss them ? Nobody knows ; 
When fresh her heart as the breeze that blows, 
Who cruelly crushed it? Nobody knows. 

Did they bury her lover beneath the snows 
In years long- vanished ? Nobody knows ; 
Does her heart go back where the willow grows 
In a far-ojff churchyard? Nobody knows. 

What broken vows could the past disclose 
That blasted her happiness? Nobody knows. 
What slight or scorning chilled and froze 
Her life's warm current? Nobody knows. 

She rubs and wrings, as her thin face glows; 
Is her heart wrung sorely? Nobody knows. 
And over her cheek a lone tear flows ; 
What memory caused it? Nobody knows. 

Her head is white as the winter snows ; 
What storms have tossed it ? Nobody knows ; 
And when the wind of adversity blows 
Is she kindly shielded? Nobody knows. 

Is her life all toil and care and woes, 
And bitter heart-burnings? Nobody knows. 
If the end should come ere the day shall close, 
Is there any to mourn her? Nobody knows. 



i6 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 



THE LONG-AGO LAND. 

Far over the prairie I wandered one day, 
Where the cattle were lazily straying; 

And many a moment I loitered away, 

Where the murmuring breezes were playing. 

I wandered where oft I had gone in the days 
When the flowers long faded were growing, 

When life was made briglit by the morning sun's rays, 
And the skies of my boyhood were glowing. 

The flowers I rudely crushed under my feet 
Seemed to look at me earnestly pleading, 

As if their fair petals were lips to repeat 
The sad story of hearts that were bleeding. 

I gathered them there as my heart warmly beat ; 

And though sadly disfigured and broken, 
They told me a story so plaintive and sweet, 

Though the language they used was unspoken. 

The story they told me you'd not understand ; 

'Twas of years I most tenderly cherished ; 
Of friends I loved well in the long-ago land, 

And the roses that bloomed and then perished. 

I dreamed of old years as the fleet moments specl 
Till the flowers were withered and drooping; 

Of hopes, like the flowers, all withered and dead, 
Till their ghosts like dim shadows came trooping. 

I sat and dreamed on till the moon lit the sky 
And the stars in the heavens were shining, 

And till the sad notes of the whippoorwill's cry 
Joined the spirit's more plaintive repining. 

17 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 



THE GREY BOYS. 

I send you a greeting to-day, boys, 

And a shake, wherever you are ; 
I hope you are jolly and gay, boys, 

And under a lucky star. 

And here's to the dear old days, boys, 

The days of the long ago, 
The seasons of sled and sleighs, boys, 

And speeding through tossing snow. 

And here's to you when you are grey, boys, 

And your steps are getting slow ; 
When you've fought through the thick of the fray, boys. 

And your heads are bending low. 

But many we loved in the years, boys, 

For whom we tenderly yearn. 
Who joined in our joys and tears, boys, 

Are gone and can never return. 

And oft in the silence I sigh, boys. 

For those that have gone before ; 
And oft there's a tear in the eye, boys. 

For those we shall meet no more. 

The world has its bitter and sweet, boys, 

A smile or a kick for all ; 
A place for our weary feet, boys. 

Or an answer as bitter as gall. 

But it's pretty much what we make it, boys ; 

It's tender, and crabbed, too ; 
It leaves you when you forsake it, boys, 

And clings to you when you are true. 

i8 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

And sometimes it's beauty and bloom, boys, 

With flowers along the way ; 
And then it's drizzle and gloom, boys, 

And skies that are sodden and grey. 

I've sometimes been pretty blue, boys, 

While toiling along the way, 
And wished I could be with you, boys, 

And hear what you had to say. 

And oft when I suffer wrong, boys, 
And patience is put to the test. 

The way seems weary and long, boys, 
And I dream of the end and rest. 

It'll soon be the crack o' doom, boys, 
And rest and a dreamless sleep ; 

And they'll lay us away in the tomb, boys, 
And others will toil and weep. 



BLACKWATER CHAPEL. 

I'll sing you a song of old Blackwater Chapel, 

Where oft by the tree on the greensward we stood 
While brave men who ever were ready to grapple 
With duty sat there in the church by the wood; 
Dear, faithful old men ! 
Time, time and again 
They strove for the right and the pure and the good. 

They stood for the right in the day of temptation 

When strong men were quailing and hard was the 
fight ; 
They fought through the battle without trepidation, 
Well knowing their Captain was ever in sight; 
And while He was near 
They never knew fear ; 
The yoke was made easy, the burden made light. 

19 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

How fortunate was it that we were enfolded 

In love such as theirs in the day of our need, 
The years when our characters largely were moulded 
And freely the tempter was sowing his seed ; 
With tenderest care 
They guarded us there 
Till precept had burgeoned and blossomed in deed. 

Gregg, Gibson, the Wheelers, Scruggs, Chipman and 
Spurgeon, 
Smith, Winston, the Sicelofifs, were always on hand, 
And Walker and Triplett, with seed that will burgeon 
And blossom in beauty in many a land 
Where children shall hear 
Through many a year 
The tale of that faithful, heroic old band. 

I came to those men when my days were in danger 

From pitfalls and snares that the young ever meet ; 
And though but a wayward, indifferent stranger 
They sought me and guided my wandering feet 
To ways of all truth. 
And bound me in youth 
By ties that have ever been tender and sweet. 

They came to me often and earnestly pleaded 
The cause the believer has ever held dear ; 
And while their good counsel too long was unheeded, 
It burgeoned and grew after many a year; 
They ceased not to plead, 
But sowed the good seed. 
Assured that the harvest would some day appear. 

I firmly believe if kind fate had not brought me 
Away from men given to grovel and grope, 

Where evil companions successfully sought me, 
And given me friends full of faith, love and hope, 

20 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

As decades passed by 
I might have swung high 
And ended my days at the end of a rope. 

When weighing the causes that tended to make me 

The man that I am both for evil and good 
I find my inquiries unconsciously take me 

Straight back to the Church that stood there by the 
wood, 
And those faithful men, 
Who worshiped there then, 
And ever for truth and integrity stood. 

O, sweet and salubrious, fresh as the morning. 

The atmosphere was that surrounded us there ; 
Those men, true and faithful, had nothing but scorning 
For vicious and profligate people who dare 
To cozen frail youth 
To ways of untruth 
And pleasure's mephitic, enervating air. 

Hail ! men good and true, who so patiently guided 

Our feet in the way that led up to the light ; 
All honor to men who, when evil betided, 

In tenderness turned us from wrong unto right; 
Hail ! men good and true, 
Gone home, all but two ; 
Brave men who triumphantly fought the good fight. 



JOHNSON WHEELER. 

O, he was a wonderful 
Man that was under full 

Sail all his days to the 

Regions of light ; 
Who stood in the fr0nt of the 
Fray ; and the brunt of the 

Battle was fought where he 

Smote with his might. 

21 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

He constantly wrought in the 
Cause and he fought in the 

Army that marched with the 

Banner of truth ; 
His voice ever rang and he 
Joyfully sang, and he 

Brought men to God in the 

Days of their youth. 

He strove with a will every 
Task to fulfill ; every 

Kind, loving word to a 

Neighbor to speak ; 
With heart full of cheer and a 
Lenient ear and a 

Grasp of the hand for the 

Lowly and meek. 

He ever besought us, and 
Patiently taught us, and 

Led us in ways that the 

Master had trod ; 
Whatever betided he 
Tenderly guided, he 

Lovingly turned erring 

Mortals to God. 

Dear, faithful, old friend, he was, 
True to the end ; he was 

Found at his post till his 

Labors were o'er ; 
Then still grew the tongue that had 
Guided the young, that had 

Pointed the way to the 

Heavenly shore. 

And sweet be his rest in the 
Land of the blest, in the 

Mansions above, where no 

Tears ever flow ; 

22 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

And where we shall meet him and 
Tenderly greet him and 

Love him again as we 

Loved him below. 



ROSALIND. 



Her life is a flower 

That blooms every hour 

And scatters its fragrance 
Wherever she goes ; 

And brings to her mother, 

Her father and brother, 

A gladness that swells till 
The heart overflows. 

She shrinks from no duty; 

And ethical beauty 

Adorns every action 
From morning till night; 
The Light of the Saviour 

Inspires her behavior 

And guides her in ways that 
Are joyous and bright. 



THE SUBSTITUTE. 



'Twas a winter day 

And the teacher lay 
In his bed too ill for teaching ; 

So he said he'd send 

In his place his friend 
Who had taught, though his work was preaching. 

23 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

Brother Preacher went ; 

And the day was spent 
In imparting truth and chiding; 

And the sturdy youtli 

As he taught the truth 
Up and down the aisle went striding. 

Close beside the aisle 

With suspicious smile, 
Sat a youth, a husky creature ; 

And there seemed no doubt 

As his foot stuck out 
He w^as trying to trip the teacher. 

With a tricksome slip 

When he failed to trip, 
The young man would then withdraw it; 

But the trick was vain ; 

For it seemed quite plain 
That the watchful teacher saw it. 

But the lad was green; 

And too dull, I ween. 
To perceive that the man would watch him; 

On his frolic bent 

He was too intent 
To perceive that the man would scotch him. 

So it chanced at last 

As the teacher passed 
And the foot straight out came sticking, 

That the teacher grabbed 

And the foot was nabbed, 
And was held in despite of kicking. 

And the teacher put 

The adventurous foot 
'Neath his arm and went on walking; 

And he never stopped 

As the young man hopped 
And the teacher went on talking. 

24 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

And he taught and talked, 

And he taught and walked ; 
And the pupils wrote and figured ; 

Brother Preacher smiled. 

And the youth was riled. 
And the pupils sat and sniggered. 



DEBRIS. 



He built him a house on a street that was clean 
Where idleness, fashion and folly held sway, 
Where statesmen and jurists and writers were seen, 
Where vanity madly ran riot all day ; 

And custom and law, in that home of the free, 
Exacting, relentless, demanded that he 
]\Iust clean up the ground and remove the debris; 
And he paid the cost with a temper serene. 

He built him a factory down where you see 

The toilers with faces all anxious and worn, 
The mothers clad thinly, though cold it may be, 
The children in garments all threadbare and torn ; 
The maimed and unfit disappeared from the scene; 
Their destitute families grew hungry and lean ; 
He built up a fortune with temper serene. 
But what did he do with his human debris? 



THE TRAMPS. 



Beside his open window^ on the prairie 
The station agent ate his noonday feast ; 

Tw^o hungry tramps went by in mood so merry 
And said : "Report two empties goin' east." 

25 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

Within a box car as the train was flying 
And madly leaping as the speed increased 

The tramp said sadly, as his pard was dying: 
"This morning but one empty's goin' east !" 

A crash, a plunge, and down beside the river 
A restless, wandering spirit was released ; 

A mangled form, a gasp, a ghastly quiver; 
And then, there were no empties goin' east ! 



ANNIE. 

May good angels guide thee, 
May woes ne'er betide thee, 

\ V here e'er thou shalt go ; 
It grieves us to leave thee ; 
May good friends receive thee 

Where e'er thou shalt go. 

We ever shall love thee ; 
May angels above thee, 

Where e'er thou shalt go, 
In kindness attend thee ; 
Our prayers we shall send thee 

Where e'er thou shalt go. 

We ne'er can forget thee 
What e'er may beset thee 

Where e'er thou shalt go. 
May joy ne'er forsake thee 
But smiles overtake thee 

Where e'er thou shalt go. 

No more wc may meet thee ; 
Yet glad we would greet thee ; 

Where e'er thou shalt go. 
May nought ever grieve thee, 
May no one deceive thee 

Where e'er thou shalt go. 

26 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 



THE SHAMBLER. 

The Christian who's advancing, 
Whose value is enhancing, 

Will scarcely stoop 

To join the group 
Who give their time to dancing. 

She who abounds in praying 
Will not go gaily straying 

Where fashion's dames 

Their euchre games 
And bridge and whist are playing. 

Those who in boundless measure 

Have laid up heavenly treasure 

Eschew the plays 

Where nights and days 

The worldly seek their pleasure. 

At Sunday school on Sunday ; 
At cards or plays on Monday; 

Or else, perchance, 

A worldly dance ; 
A wretched salmagundi. 

Do you whose Christian graces 
Invite you to such places 

Seek comfort where 

The hour of prayer 
Brings light to care-worn faces? 

Does your responsive greeting 
At every mid-week meeting 

Cheer every heart 

And bear its part 
In heartfelt prayer repeating? 

27 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

Do you on Sunday morning 
Proclaim the timely warning 

To eager youth 

To seek the truth 
And flee from doubt and scorning? 

And when your toil-worn preacher, 
The harassed, weary creature, 

Has work to do 

Does he choose you 
As leader or as teacher? 

Nay, Sister! Nay, my Brother! 
Your pastor seeks another. 

Who never strays 

In worldly ways ; 
Some faithful, praying mother. 

The blessed Holy Spirit 
Communes with those who hear it ; 

But cards and plays 

And worldly ways 
Will never lead us near it. 

These doubtful pleasures call you 
Where dangers may befall you ; 

Too swift and sure 

Their fatal lure ; 
And vice may soon enthrall you. 

When Christians take to rambling 
The road is short to shambling; 

And not too long 

To maudlin song 
And brothel-house and gambling. 

To put the matter plainly 
The man is striving vainly 

Who thinks to rise 

Yet shuts his eyes 
Then plunges down insanely. 

28 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 



GWENDOLYN. 

When spring's gentle breezes blew in from the sea 
And bird songs rang gaily in garden and tree, 
Across from my window just over the way 
Two sweet little children were ever at play. 

I saw by their dresses, their tresses and curls 
That they were two dear little frolicsome girls ; 
And ever it happened that day after day 
Dear Gwendolyn hastily scampered away. 

She seemed not to have any object in view 
Except to be gone, and she merrily flew; 
She oft left her sister at play on the lawn 
And followed the path that her father had gone. 

She left in the roadway her wee little track ; 
And often she turned as she ran and looked back. 
Well knowing the mother's soft, sheltering arm 
Would soon shield her wandering darling from harm. 

One day when she wandered she came to me here 
And jumped in my lap without scruple or fear. 
And nestled her little face close to my breast 
Just as a wee birdie asleep in its nest. 

Then hearing the call of her mother she ran, 
As if the return were a part of the plan, 
And, putting her hand in her mother's she smiled 
The heavenly smile of an innocent child. 

We dreamed not that when the June roses would bloom 
And gladden that child with their tints and perfume. 
The wander-lust call would entice her away 
To wander where only the angels may stray. 

29 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

O, sweet, little bird, whither now is she flown, 

So far from her dear ones, her loved and her own, 

Her wee little sister with tears in her eyes. 

Who asks for her playmate with sobbing and sighs ? 

O, there in the way is her wee little track, 
She calls, she awaits them, she ever looks back — 
No fear in her heart and no tears in her eyes, 
Awaiting her mother up there in the skies. 

O, mother! O, father! Your spirits attune 
To hear the sweet voice that grew silent in June 
Where heaven's sweet symphonies ever are sung 
And ever employ your dear Gwendolyn's tongue. 



A WISH. 

O, would we could sing with the bards of the ages 
Inspiring the hearts of the millions of earth. 

The tyrants and patriots, prophets and sages. 
To value all men at their ethical worth ! 

O, could we but love as our dear, blessed Master, 
All mortals in spite of their leanness of soul. 

The great day would hasten still faster and faster 
When gladness would reign far as sea billows roll! 

Or plead as an angel in words that were burning 
With mortals to flee the attractions of sin 

Ere the mills of the gods, although slow in their turning. 
Crush all whom the tempter can gather within ! 

O, that we could sing as at dawn of the morning 
The mocking bird flings its proud notes to the skies 

And send to tJie fallen of earth the glad warning 
To flee to the One that can help them arise! 

30 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

Or had we the wisdom of prophets and sages 

To lead erring mortals, the weak and the strong, 

The base and depraved of all ranks and all ages, 
To cleave to the right and to flee from the wrong! 

O, that we might fly on a Heaven-born pinion 
With swiftness and ken of an angel of light, 

Wherever apostles of wrong have dominion 

And shatter their thrones in defense of the right ! 

Or could we but go where the greedy despoiler 

Lays tribute on homes where the mother hearts bleed, 

Or filches the earnings of many a toiler, 

And stay his strong hand when the fatherless plead ! 



MAGGIE. 

The water was gone and their strength was gone, 

And the sun blazed out on high ; 
They mounted the horses and hurried on, 

While a furnace glowed in the sky ; 
The heart grew faint as the men of brawn 

Well knew that the end was nigh. 

Deserting poor Maggie, the friendless squaw, 
Whose husband was lying there dead. 

Those men of the desert where might was law. 
Took their children and wives and fled. 

She begged to be taken along with their wives. 

She looked in their eyes and plead. 
They said they would save no Indians' lives — 

That all the good Indians were dead ; 
That nothing of good in the heart e'er thrives 

When the hue of the skin is red. 

31 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

One look where the Indian was lying low, 

One plaintive and piercing wail, 
And Maggie was off in the furnace glow, 

And followed the blistering trail. 

The riders all reckless too rashly rode 

In search of a spring or well ; 
And, roasted and crushed by their heavy load. 

The famishing horses fell. 

Where deeply the sun had impressed its stamp 

Those men of true pluck and brawn 
Afoot struggled on in a fruitless tramp 

Till half of the night was gone ; 
And Maggie arrived in the parching camp 

Not far from the hour of dawn. 

When morning appeared and the scorching breath 

Swept down from the blazing sky 
And burned every living thing to death, 

A terrible fate seemed nigh. 

Away went the men through the burning sands 

In search of the far-off springs, 
With blistering faces and feet and hands, 

And fear of more dreadful thing's. 
O, braver the hearts of the desert lands 

Than the hearts in the homes of kings ! 

The women remained to await their fate, 

Exposed to the raging heat. 
With nothing to drink, though their thirst was great, 

And scarcely a morsel to eat. 

No shield from the sun but an outspread shawl; 

And none from the earth beneath ; 
And no one but Maggie to hear their call, 

Or weave them a funeral wreath. 

32 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

As morn disappeared and the noonday came 

And the sun-dogs began to play 
The pitiless heaven seemed all aflame. 

And perishing there they lay ; 
While tender maiden and stronger dame 

All flung their garments away. 

Their courage was gone and their hope was gone ; 

Their tongues were swollen and dry ; 
A red-hot wind, since the early dawn, 

Had blown from the brazen sky ; 
And Maggie sat silent as hours dragged on, 

And nought remained but to die. 

They made up their minds as the moments passed 

And famishing there they lay 
To start for the spring, and the die was cast ; 

No longer there they would stay ; 
They said they would tramp through the fiery blast, 

Though perish they might by the way. 

And painfully crawling along they went. 

Along on the burning sands ; 
Their single garment was torn and rent, 

And bloody their feet and hands ; 
Their flesh was torn and their blood was blent 

With tears where the cactus stands. 

And when they no longer had strength to creep 

They dug a trench in the ground. 
And covered themselves from the sun's full sweep 

Till water and help could be found ; 
Or where if they sank to their final sleep 

They'd lie till the last trump's sound. 

Though used to the desert as years went by, 

To thirst and a fading trail. 
Old Maggie looked up at the blazing sky. 

And her courage appeared to fail. 

33 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

She gave but a glance where the women lay- 
That gave little clue to her mind, 

And over the desert she took her way, 
And never once looked behind. 

The wind became still and the desert air 

Lay hot as a boiling wave ; 
The famishing women in blank despair 

Lay there in a living grave; 
One lost her reason and tore her hair, 

With no loving hand to save. 

Far over the hills by a desert spring 

Their husbands had lain all day, 
Unable to stand or attempt to bring 

Supply where the women lay. 

And there when the evening shadows fell 

As hot as Gehenna's breath, 
The moment drew nigh when no tongue could tell 

The tragical tale of death. 

When all became still as the home of the dead. 

And scarcely a pulse was stirred, 
A weary, a feeble, and stealthy tread 

Along the hot trail was heard. 

No hand was lifted, no eye looked up. 

So low was the current run ; 
But parched lips drank from the brimming cup, 

And Maggie's brave work was done. 

Three days in the blistering, blasting heat 

The women were forced to stay ; 
And over the trail where the sun's rays beat 

Old Maggie brought water each day, 
iWhile sorely she yearned to direct her feet 

To where the dead Indian lay. 

34 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 



THE CIRCLE LETTER. 

Some bonnie dear letters came to-day, 

A bunch as thick as your hand, 
All pinned together in a careless wav ; 
And though they had met six months' delay, 
As if they had been to far Cathay, 

Those little old letters were grand. 

And I read those letters o'er and o'er, 

I read them one by one ; 
And my heart was stirred to its inmost core 
By the welcome words from friends of yore, 
Some of whom, no doubt, I shall see no more, 
Till we meet at last on the viewless shore, 

When our earthly walk is done. 

Then back through the misty years I went. 

To seventy-two to eight ; 
When some of our bonniest hours were spent, 
Ere any of us with care was bent, 
When sorrow and care to the rear were sent— 

The years when we paid no freight. 

So warm were the words, so full of cheer, 

So rollicking, jolly, and bright, 
That each fellow's voice I seemed to hear 
As often I heard it bland and clear 
In many a sunny, bygone year ; 
They jostle my heart clean out of gear. 

So wildly it throbs to-night. 

But fellows, alas! I dinna ken 

Why Tommy should cut us out ; 
I wrote him to join us, wrote again, 
But got not a word, no scratch of pen. 
From Tommy, the best of princely men. 

The Tommy I never could doubt. 

35 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

But here's to the one we leave behind, 

The Tommy we all loved well ; 
A boy with a heart so good and kind; 
A man with a vigorous, healthy mind ; 
The man with a spirit twice refined ; 
Whose word was as good as a bond when signed. 

Our bonnie dear boy, farewell. 

And here's to the fellows that go along, 

That sail in the same old boat ; 
That stay with the crowd whether right or wrong; 
That sing whether sombre or glad the song; 
That hammer the drum or bang the gong, 

To keep the old vessel afloat. 

We sailed in the same boat long ago, 

When bright shone the morning sun ; 
We pulled at the oar in the early glow, 
When swift was the current's onward flow, 
And nothing there was to make life slow. 
When the race was scarce begun. 

We lingered a while on the river side 

Where the fairest flowers grew ; 
We leisurely drifted with the tide 
And slowly allowed our craft to glide; 
Then pulling the throttle open wide 

We saner as we onward flew. 



And then when the heat of the day was come 
We found there was work to do ; 

We landed the boat and smashed the drum ; 

We shattered the gong and left it dumb ; 

We hustled in earnest and made things hum; 

We gathered the harvest and wasted some ; 

Till now we are tired and somewhat bum 
And are looking around for the crew. 

36 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

And there in the west is the setting sun, 

And the night is drawing nigh; 
All ready is the boat for the homeward run, 
So hurry aboard and join the fun 
Ere the race is finished and the day is done, 

And we're called to our home on high. 

Quite frail is the boat and rough is the way, 
And some one may soon be lost; 

So steady on your oars and pull, I say ; 

And sing a merry song while yet you may, 

For some one may sink 'neath the wave to-day, 
And the rest be tempest tossed. 

So jolly old fellows, don't break away, 

As long as the bark will float; 
I know we are old and turning gray, 
We have shot our wads and played 'our play, 
Have been frazzled out for many a day. 
And soon, whether we vote yea or nay. 

We'll sail for a shore remote. 

But let's whoop it up for a short time yet. 

Ere the old craft runs aground ; 
Ere shadows grow long and the sun shall set; 
Don't worry and stew and fume and fret. 
And scramble for gold till there's none to get ; 
Don't gather in fish till vou break vour net; 
Put up an old sign, "A Farm to L'et," 
And stay in the house when it's cold and wet ; 
Sing like an old tar or a voung soubrette ; 
Be merry as when of old'we met; 
And whate'er you do, boys, don't forget 

Your Servant when his sleep is sound. 



Z7 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 



THE QUEEN? 

In beauty she sat with the king on the throne; 
The peer of the proudest in jewels she shone; 

In Hving for pleasure 

The peer beyond measure 
Of any fair mortal men ever had known ; 

The peer in her notion, 

That steadfast devotion 
To earth's gilded ways will bring mortals their own. 

She bowed at her shrine ; yea, quite proudly she trod 
The pathway that led to the temple of God ; 

In strictest seclusion, 

Disdaining intrusion 
Of mortals ignobly allied to the clod, 

She learned of her duty 

'Mid splendor and beauty. 
While meekly the millions passed under the rod. 

Each day on her wardrobe was spent enough gold 

To clothe and feed scores that went hungry and cold; 

She knew they were dying, 

She knew they were crying 
For raiment and food for the sick and the old, 

Yet scattered her treasure 

In frivolous measure. 
And lavish expenses too great to be told. 

She talked with the learned, the wise and the great. 
Who guided in safety the Church and the State, 

Whose golden opinions 

Throughout her dominions. 
Were sought by the wise for their value and weight. 

Then gave to her dresses, 

And gem-bedecked tresses. 
Her time and her money both early and late. 

38 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

She often had more than one dress for each day; 
And once having worn one she cast it away ; 

Gores, gussets, and creases, 

'Twas taken to pieces, 
And sent piece by piece to the giddy and gay ; 

She wasted thus gaily 

Full gold enough daily 
To build a small schoolhouse where riot held sway. 

Her elegant kennels were cozy and clean. 
And stood where the lawns and the trees were kept 
green ; 

The food was inspected, 

And nothing neglected 
To keep the dear quadruped inmates serene; 

Their numbers exceeded, 

For oft they were needed 
To drive away folks that were hungry and lean. 

The owner came often and fondled them there, 
Where bright was the sunshine and pure was the air ; 

And oft they went riding 

While modestly hiding 
Beneath the warm cloaks of an ermine-clad pair, 

While down in the crowded 

And shadow-enshrouded, 
Congested environs were want and despair. 

Her stables were spacious, expensive, and fine ; 
Her ecjuerries drank but the choicest of wine ; 

The stud was extensive, 

And all was expensive, 
And millions were spent with ignoble design, 

Amid the down-trodden. 

The stolid and sodden. 
Who hopelessly lived but to fret and repine. 

Her yachts were the swiftest that flew o'er the wave; 
And nothing was spared that the wealth of earth gave 

39 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

To add to their beauty; 

She thought it her duty 
To squander the miHions that taxpayers gave 

To add to the pleasure, 

In infinite measure, 
Of those who earned nothing from birth to the grave. 

Superbly her palaces towered on high, 

Where bloom-bordered lakelets lay under the sky ; 

And coziest bowers. 

And sweet-scented flowers, 
Shed fragrance and beauty as days drifted by; 

While many a mother, 

Or wee little brother. 
In wretched surroundings was fated to die. 

Her levees were made up of people who spurned 
The things with which people should most be concerned, 

Who wasted their treasure 

In following pleasure, 
In sowing the seed that in folly returned. 

While heartlessly reaping 

What others in weeping, 
And sorrow and stern self-denial had earned. 

Her life drifted on like a beautiful dream; 

Its joys and its pleasures to her were supreme; 

No tears for the dying, 

No cheer for the sighing, 
And suffering ones that Christ died to redeem ; 

She saved her emotion. 

And tender devotion. 
For those she thought worthy of queenly esteem. 

Her life was a symphony sung, but unheard ; 

No soul was enraptured, no noble thought stirred; 

No dark sky was rifted, 

No soul was uplifted; 

40 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

Her life was mere emptiness smutted and blurred; 

Its beauties were wasted, 

Its sweetness untasted — 
The dark shadows lingered and hope was deferred, 

She thought she was like a proud bird in its flight, 
That soared through the regions of glory and light, 

While birds that were rarest, 

Of plumage the fairest, 
Alone were permitted to bask in her sight, 

And felt that all others, 

The kites and their brothers, 
Ignobly should fly to the regions of night. 

She knew not and dreamed not that worthy men knew 
Where birds of fair plumage and sweet singers flew; 

And never suspected 

Such men had rejected 
Her false claim to fly in the skies fair and blue ; 

And thought it more fitting, 

That she should go flitting 
Like bats in the darkness where noisome things grew. 

And worthy men knew that the feathers of gold 

That decked her proud flock, if the truth were but told, 

Were plucked so unkindly 

From owners who blindly 
Submitted and meekly went half-clad and cold; 

Their costliest winings, 

And daintiest dinings. 
Were taxed on the toil of the young and the old. 

She lived and she died in a temper serene, 
'Mid gardens of beauty and bowers of green ; 

And though she was gifted. 

Yet idly she drifted. 
And floated with flotsam where wreckage was seen; 

Exalted in station. 

Adored by the Nation, 
Yet, tell me, dear reader, oh ! was she a queen? 

41 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 



DARKNESS AND LIGHT. 

]\Iy feet have grown weary, my eyes become dim; 
And over my pathway all rugged and grim, 

With ominous greeting 

The shadows are fleeting; 
The darkness creeps over the earth's distant rim, 

And tells me my roaming 

Will end in the gloaming, 
Where Baca's dark flood fills its banks to the brim. 

As quietly gather the shades of the night, 

And earthly and sordid things fade from the sight, 

Then nearer and nearer, 

And clearer and clearer, 
The great and eternal things, love, truth, and right, 

And self-abnegation, 

And conquered temptation, 
Transcendently shine with a glorious light. 

And things that have long been imperfectly seen, 
Shine out as the stars in their grandeur serene ; 

The fruit of denial ; 

And conflict and trial ; 
The pain and the sorrow that oft intervene, 

So dimly revealing. 

And often concealing 
The arm on which man may confidingly lean. 

The faith and obedience constantly taught, 
The happy achievement, the victories wrought, 

In patience or meekness, 

In strength or in weakness. 
When God's revealed will is implicitly sought, 

Shine out in those pages 

That tell how the sages 
And prophets their battles triumphantly fought. 

42 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

Mysterious things at first shrouded in gloom 
Unfold as the petals and burst into bloom 

With rich exhalations, 

And pure emanations, 
Of healing and beauty and precious perfume; 

A sweet-smelling savor 

Of God's loving favor 
To sweeten and brighten the road to the tomb. 

Things difficult once for the heart to believe. 

And things that the carnal mind could not perceive, 

In faith's clearer vision, 

And years of decision, 
No more their false web of deception could weave; 

But brightened with beauty 

The pathway of duty, 
Enabling the pilgrim lost years to retrieve. 

The specious, insidious, clamorous belief, 
As bold as a robber, yet sly as a thief, 

Which, false and misleading. 

So often comes pleading, 
That faith will assist us, but reason is chief — 

Is but a deceiver 

To guide the believer 
To danger from maelstrom, rock, shallow, and reef. 

This hoary belief is as false as the years ; 
Yet ofttimes in truth's stolen garb it appears, 

And gets recognition 

And lofty position 
Among those that pose as true teachers and seers, 

And dialecticians, 

And clever logicians, 
But flee when confronted with penitents' tears. 

On this false belief men erect with great care 
Their structures and systems imposing and fair; 

43 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

Men noted for learning, 
Sagacious, discerning, 
When searching the Scriptures audaciously dare, 
To lay their foundations 
In ratiocinations, 
And leave out the cornerstone, heart-searching prayer. 

The scholar who searches for spiritual truth 
To spread as a feast before hungering youth, 

Armed mainly with reason, 

Is guilty of treason ; 
And scatters the seeds that will burgeon in ruth ; 

The scholarly critic 

Spreads virile, mephitic. 
Seductive, destructive ideas, in sooth. 

When God's revealed will by His Children is heard, 
Unless our proud hearts into vaunting are stirred, 

God's chastening spirit, 

If meekly we hear it. 
Will show us the things that arc taught in His Word; 

And safely will guide us, 

And tenderly hide us. 
Where faith is not shaken and hope not deferred. 



DYING. 

They say he is dying, his life ebbs away, 

Where Florida's zephyrs are sighing ; 
The Brother who went with me oft to my play. 
When far from our door my wee feet could not stray; 
Who gave me support in each boyish affray. 
Lies weak and emaciated, wrinkled and gr:iy. 
Where orange trees bloom and all nature is gay, 

While peacefully, patiently dying. 

44 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

He dies as he lived with his spirit at peace ; 

And peace will depart from him never ; 
From pain and from toil he will soon find release ; 
No more shall vexation and burdens increase ; 
His heart-throbs and sorrows will soon find surcease; 

Surcease, yes, forever and ever. 

We roamed the same wood and inhaled its perfume ; 

We plucked the same flowers in the wild wood ; 
We saw the same jaybird despoiled of its plume; 
We chased the same flying squirrel on to its doom ; 
We saw the same ghost as it stalked through the gloom ; 
We watched the same winding blades, hackle and loom, 
As Mother worked on in the old lumber rooni, 
When heart was aglow and the cheek was abloom, 

Amid the sweet days of our childhood. 

We played by the side of the same little rill 
That ran through the yard down the hollow ; 

We knew where the winter green grew on the hill ; 

Where wood-peckers bored in the tree with the bill; 

We knew the best place for a wee flutter-mill. 

Though often to make one would baflie our skill, 
And sad disappointment would follow. 

When spent was my strength or unsteady my arm, 

He hastened at once to my calling; 
When aught intervened to disturb or alarm. 
At school, or at home, or at play on the farm ; 
When moral delinquency threatened to harm ; 
Or boyish beguilemcnts were ready to charm, 

His steadiness kept me from falling. 

When childhood was gone he still stood by my side, 

A shield and support in temptation ; 
When waywardness welled as an incoming tide, 
And youthful integrity sorely was tried, 
On his steady counsel I always relied, 
And found him a safe and reliable guide; 

His life was a true inspiration. 

45 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

And when I endeavored to open the door 

That leads to the temple of learning-, 
He guided my feet to the measureless lore 
That men have collected and laid up in store; 
And taught me to trust and rely on him more, 
And value his help more than ever before, 
As patiently, earnestly onward he bore, 

With never a shadow of turning. 

And later when childhood and youth were both gone, 

And pathways untried lay before us, 
In trust and affection we still journeyed on ; 
While struggling up higher to life's brighter dawn 
Of Christian-like stamina, fibre, and brawn, 
He stood where the line of uprightness was drawn, 

And knew God's protection was o'er us. 

When manhood arrived with new visions of joy. 

Arrived in its strength and its beauty, 
It showed in our Brother no touch of alloy, 
But brought the same virtues he showed when a boy, 
The same strict adherence to duty. 

His life was a guide and a stay to my feet, 

A constant, a real benediction ; 
With modest good works his whole life was replete ; 
His walk ever upright, his conduct discreet ; 
He won every heart 'twas his fortune to meet ; 
For man and for beast his warm heart kindly beat. 

In joy or in grief and affliction. 

Long years have gone by since I looked in his face, 
That brought him both gladness and sorrow ; 

But doubtless his growth has been upward in grace ; 

To still higher virtues the lower gave place ; 

Not one upward step could he ever retrace ; 
Each day not so good as the morrow. 

46 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

Magnificent man, his whole Hfe was snbHme, 

And worthy the world's imitation ; 
As good at his worst as most men at their prime, 
He traversed the heights that not many may climb, 
And builded a Mansion to stand for all time, 

With Christ as the only foundation. 

He stood for the right when his standing was play. 

When standing for right was the fashion ; 
He stood for the right in the thick of the fray, 
When currents were running the opposite way, 
When men had to battle to carry the day, 
When men were disturbed and unreason held sway, 
Amid the wild whirlwinds of passion. 

He dies as the grain at the harvest time dies, 

When ripe and full ready for reaping ; 
His work is well done ; he is winning the prize ; 
He now is cut down, but he soon will arise 
To garner the treasure laid up in the skies, 
Where loved ones and lost ones shall gladden his eyes, 

And where there's no sorrow or weeping. 

Our Brother is going, he's crossing the bar. 

Far out o'er the sea he is sailing. 
The soft winds are wafting his vessel afar ; 
The white sails grow less like a vanishing star; 
No tempest will gather the voyage to mar ; 
No lightning will shiver the mast or the spar ; 
Serenely he sails without tremor or jar. 
To regions where loved and departed ones are. 

And youth ever blooms without failing. 

And we are bereft, we are robbed of our own, 

To journey alone in our sorrow 
Through paths where the brambles and thistles have 
grown, 

47 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

From which the bright sunshine and songbirds have 

flown. 
Where rudely the winds of chill autumn have blown, 
And may blow more rudely to-morrow. 



POWDER AND BALL. 

The ships sailed on in a crescent line, 
And proudly they threw the spray 
Where slowly the gulls flew over the brine. 
Some seven-score ships, they say ; 
But our blazing alarms 
Had aroused to arms, 
And our fighters were on the way. 

Our old seadogs ! We could hear them growl 

Ere the Spaniard came in sight ; 
And whether the day was fair or foul, 
As they gathered to join in fight 
Where the war ships rode 
They plainly showed 
The battle would not be light. 

Though Spain was ahead in guns and ships, 

Ahead in the number of men, 
We knew when the Anglo-Saxon grips 
He wins if it's one to ten ; 
So waiting the day 
Like a beast of prey 
We watched through the night again. 

The morning dawned and the day was fair; 

The wind blew over the sea ; 
The Spanish ships of the line were there. 
And close to the ships were we ; 
We fought them a turn. 
Till stem and stern 
They were bloody as ships could be. 

48 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

We shot four shots to their one that day; 
They luffed and they said : "Come on !" 
We gave our shots and we sailed away; 
We riddled them, then were gone; 
They opened their eyes 
With extreme surprise 
At both our skill and our brawn. 

We shot, we tacked, and we ran away; 

We sailed to the windward sea ; 
We ran two knots to their one that day; 
They thought we had turned to flee ; 
They did not know 
That down below 
No powder and shot had we. 

"My God!" said the captain, "can we win?'' 

But the gale swept in from the sea 
And down went the Spaniard's mast with a din 
And over his deck went we ; 
And down in the hold 
Were casks of gold 
And tons of powder, you see. 

And quickly we sent the powder around 

To men who were in despair, 
And then all at once they began to pound 
The galleons sailing there ; 

And the Dons could see 
We never would flee 
As our wild cheers rent the air. 

And just off Portland motionless lay 

Both fleets as the sun rose high ; 
But we knew the sea breeze soon would play 
A tune from the western sky ; 
But down in the hold 
The story was told — 
No powder and shot had they, 

49 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

And back from the admiral came the word, 

No powder to fi^ht that day, 
While there was the Spaniard spry as a bird; 
And we in idleness lay, 

While the Queen had all 
The powder and ball 
Locked up in the Tower, they say. 

A courier went from the admiral's ship 

And plead with the Queen, did he ; 
But she held the keys so tight in her grip 
That vainly he pressed his plea ; 
Ammunition had she 
Under lock and key, 
But none for the men at sea, 

"Go back to the admiral, sailor," said she. 

In the presence of courtiers and all — 
"Go back to the admiral, sailor, and see 
What proportion of poivder and ball!" 
And the courier sped 
Where the decks were red. 
And our banner seemed ready to fall. 

And the admiral swore at the sailor and said: 

"Great God ! What a Queen is she ! 
Our ships are bloody, and our men are dead. 
And powder under lock and key! 
She has money and food 
For her sycophant brood. 
But no powder for the men at sea !" 

The sailor rode back and we had our way, 

For the Tudor was more serene ; 
We got the powder, and we won the day ; 
We swept out the Channel clean ; 
Though hardly half fed 
Our Englishmen bled 
And triumphed in spite of the Queen. 

50 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 



THE SUNDAY WORKER. 

You say that Sunday's for man, Jim, 
And you're going to work if you choose ; 

That you'll hustle as long as you can, Jim, 
That you have little time to lose. 

You say that your time is your own, Jim, 

And you'll work or you'll play as you please; 

That you never bow down at the throne, Jim, 
Nor waste any time on your knees. 

That God doesn't punish a man, Jim, 

For having a way of his own ; 
But follows a far better plan, Jim, 

By leaving a man all alone. 

You say you will not take His word, Jim, 
When He tells us that we must obey; 

That such a command is absurd, Jim ; 
And you simply will have your own way. 

Some others have felt the same way, Jim, 
And risked everything on the deal ; 

They simply refused to obey, Jim, 
And cared not for woe or for weal. 

When Noah's good neighbors of old, Jim, 

Perversely refused to obey, 
God gave them their way, we are told, Jim, 

And floods quickly swept them away. 

Old Pharaoh defiantly said, Jim, 
That Israel should never be free ; 

But wept when his first born was dead, Jim, 
His chariots whelmed in the sea. 

51 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

And Hiel refused to obey, Jim, 
When Jericho's walls were rebuilt ; 

But when his two sons passed away, Jim, 
He saw the result of his guilt. 

King Saul just refused to obey, Jim, 
Commands that he knew were divine; 

And God took his kingdom away, Jim, 
For filching some sheep and fat kine. 

The tale is too long to rehearse, Jim, 
Where penalties fell upon men 

Too heedless, too blind and perverse, Jim, 
Though cautioned again and again. 

And men have too often believed, Jim, 

That God had withdrawn from the world ; 

And frequently men are deceived, Jim, 
And think that His banner is furled. 

The Jews said that He had withdrawn, Jim, 
And set up false gods of their own ; 

And bowed down at darkness and dawn, Jim, 
To idols of wood and of stone. 

But when by fair Babylon's streams, Jim, 
Their harps on the willows were hung, 

They found their opinions were dreams, Jim, 
And wept while their songs were unsung. 



SANTA ANA COMMANDERY, K. T. 

You may think of me when you please, men, 

Down there by the sunlit sea ; 
But down where we took our degrees, men, 

Is a bonnie old place for me. 

52 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

You may care not whether I float, men, 

When my bark sails out to sea ; 
But down where we rode the goat, men, 

How merry we used to be ! 

Some time when 3^our spirits droop, men. 

Or when every heart is free. 
When you whoop it up with a whoop, men, 

Oh, sing- a merry song for me. 

We shall soon be sailing away, men, 

Far over a chartless sea. 
Do you know where you're going, oh, say, men, 

Do you know where your port will be? 

Enroll on the Christian's ship, men ! 

No other can sail the sea 
We must cross on the final trip, men, 

To where the great Conclave's to be. 

Over yonder beneath the trees, men. 
In a lodge where the heart is free, 

Where we take our higher degrees, men, 
Don't you fail to meet with me. 



THE DREAMER. 



I stood by the Jwdasan mountains 
Where terebinths spread to the sky, 

Where poppy-worts grew by the fountains, 
And saw the glad dreamer go by. 

Where Dothan's fair meadows were growing, 
And brother hearts callous as steel. 

Where well-favored cattle were lowing, 
I heard a heartrending appeal. 

53 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

Where Ishmaelite rovers were lying 

Beneath the cold Syrian sky, 
Where Israel's lone captive was sighing 

Ascended a piteous cry. 

From Potiphar's house with its glory 
There went up a cry of despair, 

Till faith gently whispered the story 
That Israel's Jehovah was there. 

Then humbly, in byways of duty. 
Consoling each grief and each sigh, 

Then clothed with all grandeur and beauty, 
Again the glad dreamer went by. 



THE COLUMNS. 



(Missouri University Building, burned several years 
ago.) 
Yes, there are the columns, still standing upright 

With ivy vines clambering o'er them ; 
They stand there as grim through the day and the night 

As when we first stood there before them. 

It's thirty-three years now since you and I trod 

The pathway that guided us to them ; 
And many dear fellows now under the sod 

Were dear to us there where we knew them. 

What measure of bitterness, sorrow, and tears, 

What downfalls and what dissipation 
Have come to that crowd in those thirty-three years ! 

What honors and what elevation ! 

Oh, would that men stood, that we ever could stand 

As firm as those columns of granite. 
As true to the purpose for which we were planned 

And sent to possess this old planet. 

54 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

Then, when this old world shall be crumbled to dust 

And sent to the limbo of chaos, 
We grandly would stand with the true aad the just 

Where sin never more could betray us. 

But men are unlike the firm columns of stone, 

Unmoved in the sweep of the ages ; 
They're more like the clay or the chaff that is blown, 

Swept off by each tempest that rages. 

You ask me where now are Court Yantis and Jay, 
Choate. Wheeler, Babb, ]\like, and the others, 

Louis Hoffman, Rash Feagans, Buck Berry, and Gray, 
And Sherman, all dear as our brothers? 

Some linger here yet, but their footsteps are slow. 

While quietly seeking for knowledge ; 
And some are promoted, as you and I know, 

And passed to a more advanced college. 

They sat with the Sophs and the Freshmen no more. 
Their ties with the Juniors were broken ; 

They distanced the Seniors ; they passed on before ; 
Their final farewells were all spoken. 

They sang a new song ere they hasted away; 

They said their good-bys at the station ; 
The moment had come, and they could not delay, 

To meet a new matriculation. 

All pale were their faces and dim were their eyes, 
And folded their hands when they started ; 

They silently went to that school in the skies. 
And left their friends here broken-hearted. 

They'll never come back from that school far away, 
Though ceaseless and sore is our yearning; 

Matriculates enter, but graduates stay, 
Nor sigh for the day of returning. 

55 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

But were they all ready to enter that school? 

Were some without due preparation? 
Dear fellows, they had to submit to the rule, 

And went to the examination. 

Dear fellows ! We do not know how they stood there, 
Where closely their work was inspected, 

How many of them were shut out in despair. 
Marked down and shut out as rejected. 

Matriculates there had to do their own work ; 

There was no depending on cronies ; 
No chances were given to cheat or to shirk 

Or dig out their lessons with "ponies." 

Their entrance depended on labor well done, 
Through years of hard toil and devotion, 

On self-sacrifice since their work had begun 
Without any thought of promotion. 

And soon we shall stand where those dear fellows stood, 

And either be passed or rejected, 
With no opportunity then to make good 

The chances we mav have neglected. 



THE OLD DINNER HORN. 

Oh, do you recall it, the little tin horn ? 

Ah, well, very well I remember ; 
When far, far afield in the meadow or corn, 
With spirit aglee or with spirit forlorn. 
Our labor grew near the fag-end of the morn, 
Of all earthly sounds to persuade or to warn. 
Its tone was the sweetest heard since I was born, 

In April, in June, or November. 

56 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

Oh, glad was the heart and so swift were the feet, 

And biithely our spirits were flowing ; 
The forest was gay and the flowers were sweet 
Whenever its welcome tones called us to eat, 

When that dear old horn we heard blowing. 

Sometimes in my musings I picture the day 
When first that old horn was set blowing ; 

The bonnie wee girls that came in from their play 

And wanted to tote the new tooter away, 

Their dress not so modern and eke not so gay ; 

The same girls whose heads are now sprinkled with gray, 
Who soon to their rest will be going. 

Or was it before any bairnies had come 
That olden time home to make brighter? 

Ere Mother's old spinning wheel started to hum ; 

Ere trouble and toil were the chief of life's sum ; 

Ere girlhood gave place to life's weary humdrum ; 
Those years when her burdens were lighter ? 

It may be our grandmother brought it along 
One day when she came with her sewing; 
While in from the hayfield were wafted a song, 
The ring of the crum-crick in merry ping-pong, 
The swish of the scythe in arms steady and strong, 
From where the haymakers were mowing. 

And whence came the money that settled the bill? 

Or was the bill paid in hard money? 
It might be that Father rode over the hill 
Conveying an old-fashioned grist to the mill 
And eke to the store with a hearty good will 

Some eggs or a few pounds of honey. 

And when at the eve he came home from the mill 

And brought home the grist from the milling. 
He brought the old horn to his bride on the hill 
Awaiting him there with her heart all athrill. 
Dressed plainly in linsey with never a frill. 
But ready for cooing and billing. 

57 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

And then for amusement they tested it there, 

While standing- outside in tlie gloaming, 
With hair-raising screeches and heathenish blare, 
Alarming the neighbors and splitting the air, 
And giving the cattle and horses a scare 
That sent them skyhooting and roaming. 

Or maybe he wandered along by the shore, 

Where old wooden vessels were lying, 
In Baltimore, where he had gone in the yore 
To market his cattle and sheep by the score, 
And bought the old horn at an olden time store ; 
And over the rivers and mountains he bore 
The gift till he met his young bride at the door, 
Where, toiling with old-fashioned gusset and gore. 
She sweetly sat waiting and sighing. 

Gone, gone is our grandmother, gone to her rest, 
Who chided us times, without number ; 

Rut chiding or blessing she did for the best ; 

She did her whole duty at Heaven's behest ; 

She slumbers at rest in the Isles of the Blest, 
And peaceful and sweet is her slumber. 

And gone are the couple tliat stood by the gate 
And blew the old horn in the gloaming ; 

They toiled for the bairnies both early and late. 

When young in their prime and when old and sedate ; 

They went at the call, they submitted to fate ; 

And long are the years to the bairnies who wait, 
And weary their feet in their roaming. 

And weary the heart and so dreary the day. 

And lonely the road we are going; 
And slowly the feet tread the long, dusty way ; 
The flowers are dead and the forest is gray ; 
The music is sad, touch the chords ais they may; 
And hushed are the voices forever and aye 

We heard when the old horn was blowing. 

5S 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

And gone is the horn with our halcyon days ; 

Its dust with our lost ones is sleeping ; 
It vanished away in the mist and the haze ; 
Its echoes are dead, buried deep in the maze 
Of childhood's sweet land, where we wistfully gaze, 
As fade its fair heights in the sun's dying rays, 

While nought comes to us but our weeping. 



JOHN OF TYRONE. 

Old John of Tyrone, dear old John of Tyrone, 
Come out of the silence, come unto your own, 

And tell us the tales in your keeping; 
The stories they told you when you were a chap 
And all cuddled down in your fair mother's lap. 

Told often in sighing and w'eeping. 

Oh, where were your grandfathers, John of Tyrotie, 
When William of Orange came unto his own 

Amid much confusion and bustle? 
Stood they with our William when over he came 
To win hisii a crown and establish liis name, 

And give bonnie Jamie the hustle? 

When England's false friends were debasing the coin, 
When England's true monarch was winning the Bo}Tie, 

Where were they ? Out houghing the cattle ? 
Were they with our William when Boyne was at flood 
And William for England shed Protestant blood ? 

Or with Bonnie Jamie in battle? 

And when the Stuart star in adversity set 
When exile and penury were to be met, 

Was that the sad day of their weeping? 
Or rode they in triumph as William passed by 
With England's proud banner unfurled to the skv. 

Where William's grave cohorts were sweeping." 

59 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

And when those brave soldiers for country and God, 
Shut up within walls of old Erin's green sod, 

Fought nobly in old Londonderry, 
Did they stand for William, your worthy old sires, 
Did thev warn their comrades with bright beacon fires 

That blazed from old Ulster to Kerry? 

Were they with the heroes that won in the fight, 
Or were they cut down ere the end was in sight 

By slaughter, disease, or starvation? 
Perhaps they returned to their families to tell 
The tale of the siege and their comrades that fell, 

A story of war's desolation. 

A\'hcn gallant Prince Rupert rode into the fray, 
When Cavalier troopers were gaining the day. 

Was that your old ancestors' inning? 
Rode they with the Prince as he fought for the crown? 
Rode they with the Prince when his foemen went down ? 

And triumphed they when he was winning? 

And where were your ancestors, speak out and say. 
When Cromwell's grim troopers dismounted to pray, 

And went from their knees to their fighting? 
Did they for the king and the monarchy fight? 
Or did they with Oliver cleave with their might. 

The foes of their Commonwealth smiling? 

And when the Armada was swept on your shores. 
And broken and pillaged and robbed of its stores. 

As wildly the tempests were brewing. 
Did they smite the jewel-decked grandees of Spain, 
And harry and torture and murder for gain? 

Was that the red work of their doing? 

Or were they at home by their fanes and their fires, 
Instructing their families, your good Celtic sires. 

In doctrines of faith and election. 
While baser men down by the tempest-wracked main 
Were luring and looting the galleys of Spain 

That, fled to the Celt for protection? 

60 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

And tell us, old man, when the heretic creed 
Swept in by the breeze that blew over the Tweed 

And paralyzed Erin with terror, 
Came they with the fagot, the sword, and the spear 
To slice away heretic finger or ear 

And save Papal Erin from error? 

Or were they consumed by a Calvinist zeal 
And were they impelled to use Protestant steel 

To forward the work of the Spirit? 
Perhaps they believed that all things were foreknown ; 
The Word was ordained for the chosen alone. 

And no non-elect need to hear it. 

Come out of the silence, old John of Tyrone, 
Come out where your children are waiting alone 

To hear you tell over your story ; 
The story you heard in the vanishing years 
Of torture and death, and of sorrow and tears. 

Of deeds that were tragic and gory. 



THE TEST. 



(From Private Memoirs.) 
A lady, fair, youthful, and witty. 

Once dined in the home of a peer 
Amid the elite of the city, 

Where stately St. Peter's stood near. 

Her lover, rich, handsome, and loyal, 

Devotedly sat by her side ; 
Her lover, who gallant and royal, 

Was waiting to make her his bride. 

The table talk drifted to scaling 
St. Peter's dome clear to the top ; 

Her lover asserted, while paling. 
That if he should try it he'd drop. 

6i 



CALIFORNIA SO N G S 

"Not for the \Yhole world!" he said plainly; 

'^Not if I should ask it?" she cried; 
"I know you would not!" he said vainly; 

"E>J:cuse me, I do !" she replied. 

He laughingly tried to dissuade her; 

She madly insisted and won ; 
For, finding he could not evade her, 

He said the rash thing should be done. 

He went ; and he won ; and, returning. 
She came and extended her hand ; 

He took it ; he kissed it ; discerning 
That now was his time to command. 

And there in the Eternal City, 

With lords and fair ladies around, 

He spoke in all kindness and pity, 
But w^ith no equivocal sound. 

"When next you have power, pray use it; 

Don't recklessly throw it away ; 
Don't foolishly, madly abuse it, 

As you have abused it to-day !" 

Then, saying "Good-by !" he departed, 
As from her forever he turned, 

And left the girl there broken-hearted 
To ponder the lesson she'd learned. 

When did I discover that I was a poet ? 
Alas ! and alack ! sir, I do not yet know it. 

The standard is high, sir, that measures the poet ; 
And most who write verses are far, far below it ! 

Too few among men wield the magic to grow it. 
The flower that blooms by the path of the poet ! 

62 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

He who gives his hfe where he never could owe it, 
Who lavishes love and delights to bestow it, 

Whose soul fills the earth and can even o'erflow it. 
That man has the soul of the genuine poet ! 



GONE ! 

(Ollie, Cora, Lois, Lillie, and Gertrude.) 
We saw four lambs and a kid at play 

Where idly the winds were straying ; 
The heart was glad through the livelong day, 

While gayly the lambs were playing. 

The hills are brown and the grass is dead ; 

The night hawk loudly is crying ; 
The lambs are gone, and the kid has fled, 

And sadly the winds are sighing ! 



A HERO! 



It was down in Oklahoma 
They sped along in the snow, 

A youth and his lover. Noma, 
Some dozens of years ago. 

'Twas a lonely, desolate prairie 
Where the Chickasaw lovers sped 

To a home where the guests were merry 
And the lovers were to be wed. 

As the ponies were swiftly flying 
And the lovers a moment mute, 

They suddenly heard the crying 
Of a pack of wolves in pursuit. 

63 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

It was miles to the nearest dwelling, 
And the Chickasaw had no gun; 

And, the hungry chorus swelling, 
He whipped his team to a run. 

As the ponies their muscles were straining, 
And the sleigh flung the snow in spray, 

It was certain the wolves were gaining, 
And the lovers were losing the day. 

It was death for them both if they waited, 
For the ravenous pack was near ; 

And as for a trice they debated 

Sharp snaps they could plainly hear. 

A kiss, and the Chickasaw, leaping. 

Sprang into a living grave ; 
One look and the maiden was weeping 

Hot tears for the Chickasaw brave. 

A moment of snarling and snapping, 

A war whoop there on the hill. 
And loosely the lines were flapping, 

And the maiden's hot pulse grew still. 

On the floor of the sleigh they found her. 
When the ponies arrived at the gate ; 

And the wedding guests gathered around her 
To learn of her lover's fate. 

Reviving, she told the story 

Of her lover so true and brave. 
Who covered his name with glory, 

And went to a hero's grave. 

And down there in Oklahoma, 

Along the old Indian trail, 
They tell the story of Noma 

And her piteous midnight wail. 

64 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 



GREETING. 

To those who besought me 

When evil distraught me 
To turn from the darkness 
And seek for the hght ; 

Who taught me my duty ; 

Who showed me the beauty 
That shines in the Hfe when 
The heart is made right. 

To those who have striven 
And faithfully given 

Their lives for the sheep that 

Are out of the fold ; 
Who triumph in winning 
The souls that are sinning 

To that which is purer 

And better than gold. 

To those who are keeping, 

In joy or in weeping, 
The path that the prophets 
And martyrs once trod ; 

Who joy beyond measure 

In garnering treasure 
To bring at the end to 
The Storehouse of God. 



FIFTY YEARS. 



'Tis fifty years ! O, far-ofif day ! 

Since Father, with his troop, 
From home and kindred turned away, 

A melancholy group, 

;; 65 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

And left his native pine-clad hills, 
The shady dells and rippling rills 

His losses to recoup 
In lands beyond the setting sun, 
Where fortune's quest must be begun. 

War's devastating, withering hand 

Pressed sorely on our brood ; 
But bravely Father took his stand 

And daily toiled for food ; 
Most all his land, his herds, and gold 
He'd lost through men as false as bold; 

And then, in cheerful mood, 
With honest heart and weary feet. 
Went on his way in cold and heat. 

And generous fortune kindly shed. 

In later, kindlier years. 
Her ample favors on his head 

And paid her just arrears 
In honors, quiet and content, 
With other blessings sweetly blent; 

And free from doubts and fears 
He ever in the footsteps trod 
Of Christ the blessed Son of God. 

And since that melancholy day 
Of all that household troop 

But five are gone ; eight staidly stray, 
A broken, severed group ; 

And all have heard the Saviour's call ; 

And evermore his blessings fall 
On silvered heads that stoop ; 

In joy and mirth, in grief and tears 

Our Go'd has kept us fifty years. 



e6 






CALIFORNIA SONGS 



FAREWELL! 

We must bid you farewell, 

O, ye forest and dell, 
Where in faraway childhood we played ! 

We must bid you farewell, 

All ye pathways that tell 
Where our way-weary footsteps have strayed! 

And the plains of the West, 

Where we ever could rest 
On their beautiful carpet of green ; 

And the rivers that sweep 

Far away to the deep ; 
We must leave that fair region serene ! 

And this bright land of bloom. 

Orange groves, and perfume. 
Where the rivers of paradise flow; 

And a fair country lies 

Under radiant skies, 
And the opaline tints ever glow ! 

Fare ye well ! Hill and dale, 

Where the mists' throw a veil. 
Like enchantment from mountain to sea! 

Summer land of the West, 

Where the heart finds its rest. 
And delight and content never flee! 

And ye friends fair and true 

That in lost years we knew, 
That were near, O, so near to the heart; 

Ye whose hands we oft pressed 

In the years we loved best, 
Soon the moment will come to depart! 

67 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

But we go, O, we go 

Where the flowers ever blow, 
And the young heart can never grow old! 

Where no tear dims the eye 

As the ages sweep by, 
And the beauty can never be told ! 



A PRAYER. 



Father ! In meekness and patience we bow, 
Knowing affliction is best for us now. 
Infinite Father ! Compassionate Friend ! 
O, give us strength to endure to the end ! 



OH! WOULD! 



O, would that these perishing bodies of ours 

Could only keep pace with the spirit! 
For then we would journey 'mid earth's fairest bowers 
And breathe the perfume of the rarest of flowers ; 
For earth's filled with music from heaven's high towers, 

If but we had ears that could hear it ! 



A VISION. 



As oft I sit quietly musing 

And dreaming of years that are dead, 
When visions come up without choosing. 
That passed with the years as they sped, 
One sweet vision stays 
Of long age days. 
Ere youth and its rapture were fled. 

68 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

'Tis Sunday and Mother is reading 

Her Bible so patiently there, 
Her £aith on its promises feeding, 

There in her old split-bottomed chair ; 
While we wish to fly 
Away where the sky 
Sheds beauty on meadows so fair. 

No matter how worn and how weary. 

How cruel or bitter the strife ; 
No matter how dull and how dreary, 
Or lonely and cheerless the life ; 
When hope lit the sky ; 
When shadows were nigh ; 
Or sore disappointments were rife; 

When wildly the March winds were sweeping 

And driving the clouds through the sky; 
Or gently the summer clouds weeping 
As sweetly the days drifted by; 
When winter's wild blast 
Grew cold as it passed. 
The vision I cherish drew nigh. 

This sweetly enchanting old vision 

That comes from the vanishing years. 
Now seems beatific, Elysian, 

Though seen through a vista of tears ; 
A beacon of light 
It guides me aright 
When doubt or temptation appears. 



THE HEN. 



When the fire passed by 

And the raging sky 
Shed the coals and the embers down. 

On the fire-swept ground 

There the hen was found, 
Scorched and lifeless, and roasted brown, 

69 



CALIFORNIA SONGS 

When they turned her o'er 

On the forest floor 
There her httle ones chirped for food; 

In the fiery breath 

She had met her death ; 
She had perished to save her brood. 

Unbeheving men ! 

If a farmer's hen 
Will surrender her life for love; 

For the love of you 

What will Christ not do 
To secure you with him above ! 



THE END. 



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